


Way Up high

by natblue_author



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Complete, Gen, Spiritual, Supernatural - Freeform, philosophical
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-10
Updated: 2016-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-20 17:23:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16141937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/natblue_author/pseuds/natblue_author
Summary: Slowly the stars began to go out. The dawn came. In the end only one star was left, and it was the last star my eyes were focused on. I thought it would - like any other - soon fade away. It never disappeared. It fell. That was when I heard them. Whispering voices came to me like caressing breezes when they move among the towering canopy. "Make a wish," they said.





	Way Up high

I would often go to the country during holidays and weekends. And during the summer holidays, I spent the whole days in the woods, surrounded by the wonders of nature.

It was a beautiful forest, with old trees that whispered when the wind rustled their branches, stones of different shapes that you'd think were people in the mist's treacherous glow, and animals that you everywhere felt the presence of but never saw.

In one of the oldest trees, I had built a tree house. From that I could see for miles in every direction, but it was rare that my eyes gazed out over the familiar grounds.

An ordinary evening, I sat there in the hut and looked up at the sky and the stars began to illuminate. I sat there often and looked wistfully up at the dark night sky. When I was little, I thought you could take down the stars, one by one. Oh so sad I was when I realized that it was not possible.

The night came creeping, while the cold crept closer. But I was used to it, I had needed to spend more than one night outdoors in the open. But at the moment the cold did not bother me. The only thing I saw were the stars. The stars that one by one slowly lit up and shone like bizarre glowing holes on a black canvas.

What was it I liked about the stars really? Well, it is so that I - contrary to many others - feel that I am an important person when the stars are looking down at me. When I look up, it is as if all the stars are millions of eyes watching me as if I were a very special person. That's what makes me love them. They make me important.

There I sat, and while the cold grew stronger, sleep tried to get its grip over me. But I fought stubbornly against it. My favorite part was coming. I waited…

Slowly the stars began to go out. The dawn came. In the end it was only one star left, and it was the last star my eyes were focused on. I thought it would - like any other - soon fade away. It never disappeared. It fell.

That was when I heard them. Whispering voices came to me like caressing breezes when they move among the towering canopy.

\- Make a wish, they said.

I wished. Quiet I whispered my demand to the sun's first warming rays.

\- I wish I was a star.

What did I expect, really? Even now, long after this, I cannot answer that question.

And so the days went. I did what I had done all summer. I went out in the woods, climbed a tree, swam and bathed. On the last night before my journey home, I had almost forgotten my wish. Almost…

That night, the last night, I slept indoors. I felt sick. Hot and cold at the same time. Froze and sweated alternately. Then it stopped suddenly. I did not know what happened.

The rest of the night sleep did not visit me as it used to. I laid awake, what could I do but lie there and think? It was as if someone took over my brain. Planted a thought that refused to let go. It wanted me to go to the hut. It wouldn't let me rest until I did as it demanded.

Time passed, but the darkness lingered. In the end I had no choice. I walked slowly toward the hut in the dark. The cold didn't affect me, nor night animals' snuffling gasps or tree canopy shaking foliage.

So there I sat again. In the same place as the first day. The sun was looking up over the treetops and the last fading star in the sky fell like Icarus had fallen when he approached the sun.

We switched places. I was it, it was me. I was the last star disappeared.

Being a star is alone. It is cold, but you're burning, so it's almost always unbearably hot. No company either. Only the angels that slowly fly up toward the galaxy's outskirts, and occasionally one or two gods roaming the sky as they pull the sun and the moon after themselves.

I can see both up and down. Most of the time, I look down at the people. I've noticed that I can hear their wishes and I know that I have power to perform them.

Sometimes I miss myself, my old self. But for now I'm satisfied. I have started to look up, and I aim high.

I'm aiming for the stars.


End file.
